Wonka and Copper The Cherry or Jerry Street
by ravenmosher
Summary: Wonka has just opened his first candy shop and Ficklegruber wants him out of the picture. What lengths will Ficklegruber go to to get rid of this new chocolatier?
1. Three men and the Boy

Chapter 1 Three men and the Boy 

The street was grey and dirty. Every house was exactly the same. The air was thick with early morning fog and the ground was moist and slippy, and the snow fell badly onto the ground, melting into it rather than laying. Even the sky was dull and miserable, and not a soul was out. Save for three men.

They were dressed in long grey trench coats and one of them carried a big heavy black umbrella.

There was a tall thin man, a little fat man and one that was in the middle, neither fat or thin, tall or short. They stood at the corner of the street, Jerry Street, staring at the shutters covering up the windows of the corner shop. The sign was covered up with wooden planks, but little splashes of colour within the cracks from the shutters told you this street was about to become something incredibly different. And these three men did not like the sound of that.

"This place surly isn't big enough to start a new business. Look at these windows. They're tiny. And the walls are crumbling…what a mess." The tall man said shivering under the umbrella. The two shorter men huddled underneath the umbrella trying not to get the snow on their coats.

"Now now, Slugsworth, we all started in similar places."

"Yes, Ficklegruber but they were in commercial areas. This is a residential area. Highly unusual. You would expect a newsagents or a family run place but this is unheard of."

"Who did you say bought this place?" the short chubby man said.

"They said it was some new comer, Prodnose. They didn't tell me his name,but apparently he has lived here in this street since hwas eleven years old and yet this is the first time I've heard of him. They also said he is not a bussiness man. Or at least he doesn't look it. They also said he came from a foster home. The Swich family or something.

"What about his own family? What happened to them?"

"That they didn't say much about. All they said was he's a young man from a middle class family"

"Middle class?…Oh dear…"

"What do you think he's selling here?"

Suddenly from around the corner came a fast walking exited young man, possibly only in his early twenties, or at least that was what his face told them. He wore a long brown tail coat and old dirty black shoes. His hair was messy but shiny. He wore big round black sunglasses. He trotted along, humming some unknown tune. He ignored the three men completely and took out a huge ring full of keys from the inside of his coat and started fiddling about looking for the right key to open the shutters and door.

The three men looked at each other, both confused and disturbed all at once. They didn't know what to make of this strange little man. They recognised the song he was humming as something called, 'Sweets for my sweets, sugar for my honey.'

"Excuse me young man, do you know the man that has bought this shop?"

The man paused and looked straight at them. His smile dropped momentarily, then sprang back up again. His teeth were daringly white against the blackness of his sunglasses.

"I certainly do!…" he returned to examining the lock and keys. "Is it this one...? Nope..." he continued searching for the right key.

"Do you know when he will be here, young man? We wish to speak to your manager right away."

"Nope! It's not that one either!...What? Oh! I don't have a manager!"

"You don't? But you just said you know the man who bought this shop!"

"And I certainly do!"

"Well, when will he be here?"

"Finally I found the right one! Scoot over!" he pushed the tall man out of the way while he finally unlocked the door and pulled the shutters on the windows up. They snapped up like magic, revealing nothing but red blinds on the other side. "Knock and the door does open eventually!" He opened the door and ran in.

"You don't think that this young boy is the owner do you?"

"Did you see his clothes? Filthy!"

"And his shoes seemed far too small for him."

"Not to mention how rude he was. He didn't even say who he was!"

"He has the face and energy of a school boy. Who would give him a job? He seems far too energetic for his own good."

The young man popped his head back out the door and smiled at them. "You three must be freezing! Come in then! Just don't touch anything…kay? Oh, and wipe your shoes on the door mat, it's a new floor you see. Just finished installing it yesterday."

The three men walked into the shop, hoping to find some clue as to what was going to be sold from this tiny little street corner shop. All the shelves and cabinets were pure clean white and the floor was a pattern of black squares with white borders. There were things on the shelves, but everything was covered up in either bright red, black or purple sheets. The smell of the place was adorable and sweet. But everything was still dark.

They walked up to the counter and hit the bell.

"Hello!" The young man popped his head up from behind the counter. His brown trench coat was gone. Now he wore a bright happy plum coloured coat with bright red gloves. "Thanks for making sure the bell works! Won't be long now!" he disapeared behind the counter again, then all the lights came on.

He popped back up and watched the three men look around.

The shop was bigger than they thought it was, but still no bigger than the average sized kitchen. There were stalls and small tables and glass cabinets dotted about everywhere, and old posters advertising 'Swich Candy Stores.' The floor was tiled in black and white, and the walls were white, the same as the shelves and cabinets. Everything seemed brand new and so clean. Only Prodnose seemed to make a little grin, but Ficklegruber decided to get straight to the point.

"Young man, we are bussiness men from out of town, and we wish to speak to the owner of this establishment right away."

The man behind the counter raised his eyebrows at him. "Why would you want to do a thing like that?" the man took out a handkerchief and began wiping the counter down, tutting as he did so. "What a mess…so much time, so little to do…"

"We are interested in what you plan to sell here. When will your boss get here?!"

"Strike the last thing I said. Reverse it. Thank you!"

"When will your boss get here!?!"

"Oh, I don't have a boss!" he paused silently, then ran into the back room.

"This is getting redicoulous..."

He reappeared dragging a bucket on wheels, a mop in the other hand. "Mind your shoes please, certainly don't want to get them all wet now, do we?"

"Will you please stop what your doing and tell us when your boss will get here! Surely he gave you a time!"

"You don't understand, bussiness man! I don't have a boss because I AM the boss of this...establishment...Wonka! Mr Willy Wonka at your service!" he stretched out a hand warmly and grabbed one of the gentlemen's hands and shook it violently. "Congratulations, sirs! You three are officially my first customers! Good for you! Aren't you lucky! That is...if you are willing to try some."

"Try what, for heaven sake?"

"My dear sir, if you could just be a little more patient...and never interupt someone when they are talking. It's very rude."

He ran over to one of the windows and placed a hand softly on one of the sheets. "This is what I will be selling." The sheets slipped off the shelf and revealed a whole rainbow of colours and shapes of every different size. Printed on every little shape in fat curly lettering was the name, 'Wonka.'

"This is candy. Sweeties. You wish to sell candy here?"

"Yeah. Jelly beans, jelly babies, squezazy pops, lolly pops, jelly tots, toffees, caramels, scumtious fudgemellows, marshmallows and of course chocolate of every and any flavour! Please have a bite, please do!"

"We wish to talk bussiness, Mr Wonka. Before you owned this store, you sold candy here but under another name."

"Yes, my dear friend Mr Switch owned this store! He taught me everything I know! He was my foster father for a time, you know. He taught me absolutely everything there is to know about making candy! And a few things I don't know! But...he passed away some time ago...very sad, realy...so he gave his store to me and said I could sell anything and everything I ever create right here! Haha! Isn't that neat?"

"We simply wish to make sure that you stay within the guidlelines that were given to Mr Switchy." Prodnose said nervously.

"We simply ask that you sell your candy just here, and only here." Slugsworth said, straight. "It would knock the entire consumer market off balance if you sold your candy anywhere else as well as here."

"Yes, because your candy is incredibly popular you see but this was a familly run bussiness and we wish to make sure it stays that way." Ficklegruber gave a sort of weak smile, like he was talking to someone sitting inside a dustbin.

Mr Wonka seemd to think for a moment, leaving a very comical confused look on his face. It went blank, then his eyes sparkled briefly, but he never raised his smile again. "So...what your saying to me is...you wish for me...not to sell my candy anywhere else but in my own little shop...that if you see my name anywhere else the consumer market will fall over...and that you wish this place to stay a...f...familly run...thing?"

"Yes. That's exactly it. Thank you very much for your time, could you please sign this contract stating that you will stay within the guidlines that were handed to Mr Switchy."

Ficklegruber flashed a piece of paper at Mr Wonka, then took a pen out of his front pocket. He held it in front of Mr Wonka, but Mr Wonka as thinking again, almost to a point where he forgot he was still speaking to them. When he finally stopped dreaming, he clicked his feet and laughed slightly.

"Ah...? There's just one little incy wincy but ever so crucial little tiny detail…"

"What's that?" Ficklegruber asked, confused.

Then Mr Wonka's face grew grim and pale. He drummed his fingers against the handle of the mop he was holding.  
"I'm not Mr Switchy. I don't like guidlines...and I certainly don't like people telling me what to do and what not to do. It doesn't help the creative atmosphere you see. So I'm so sorry to waste your time. But my own time has run…" he stared at the short little man. He looked up at up then pinched one of the three samples off the trays and threw it in his mouth. "Short…and business hours start in fifteen minutes and I'm not even ready yet. So please...thank you very much but...good day to you."

The three men were pushed outside into the street, the sign on the door was flipped to open, then from around the corner from both sides, people appeared, children, parents, grandparents, anyone who was just as curious, perhaps even more so than the three bussiness men piled into the little candy store.

"He seems to know what he's doing." said Prodnose.

"He has no one in there helping him. He doesn't know a thing." Slugsworth said.

"Well those people buying his candy seem to think he knows quite a lot about how to make candy taste good. We best keep an eye on this one. I have a feeling we may have a little difficulty with this candy maker in the near future.

The three of them stomped through the rain, away from the most colourful thing that had ever happened in this city for a long time. Outside the store on the other side of the street was another man, a man silently watching the store, smiling but refusing to go in. "At least your happy, for now, son. He took out an old camera, shot a photograph, then nodded, smiled then walked away.

* * *

Author's note: The beginning of this story starts twenty years before the golden tickets story is set. 

Since you are never told the age of Mr Wonka at any point in the book or the movies other than he was an older man when he opened the factory, I am keeping him at a respectful twenty nine at this point, making him 49 for the golden tickets story. But you are free to decide for yourselves the age he is.

Ficklegruber, Slugsworth and Prodnose are given very little to do in the books and movies. So this part of the story involving them is pretty much just me filling in the gaps.

It never said in the book that Mr Wonka did start off with small shops before the factory, but it would make sense that he would have. I took the street name, 'jerry street' and the description of the shop straight from the Tim Burton version, but tweaked it slightly.

The appearance that Wonka has at first is ordinary and almost civilian like. In the tim burton movie his father was a rich man, but then willy ran away, so I decided that he came from a middle class foster family. No reason behind it, other than I wanted him to come from a reasonably normal class family.

Switchy is a character I did want to include in this chapter but it was making it seem like I was trying to replace Willy's father. So I merely had him mentioned.

The character of willy himself is derived from both gene wilder and johnny depp. There will be some wilder things and depp things, but I have tried to keep him as energetic as the book originally portrayed him to be, so he is a hybrid of all three versions and I hope I got the balance right.


	2. Chocolate Stage

Chapter 2; Chocolate Stage 

The next few weeks went by and Mr Wonka decided to put a help wanted sign in the window. The shop had grown far too busy for him to run it by himself and word of how good his candy was, was spreading like wild fire. Customers would come from all over the place just for the chance to buy one of his chocolate bars. He was growing so popular that he swore to himself that he would never serve in the front shop again. He loved seeing the faces of the people eating his candy, they were always happy or laughing. But what he hated was the attention. He received far too much attention and far too many questions were asked that he refused to answer.

The Help wanted sign said exactly this;

'HELP WANTED. MUST LIKE CHOCOLATE. '

Well that was self explanatory really…

A few people turned up wanting the job, but Mr Wonka knew exactly what kind of people he wanted; Happy, Enthusiastic, organised, willing to work hard, willing to learn new things every day, and of course intelligent and willing to put their heart and soul into everything they did…

Well it was a long shot. He was never going to find people fitting that description perfectly, but as long as they were good at keeping secrets that was enough for him.

One of them, named Timothy Hues. He was a tall blonde skinny man but very bubbly and always asked questions. He was a very enthusiastic young man and every job he had before was different from the last.

The next one was Joe Bucket, a shy slightly older man but extremely well organised. He was extremely friendly with the customers so he stayed in the front shop, and told Mr Wonka when they were running out of different things. He seemed to panic more than anyone Mr Wonka had ever met.

Then there were two strong men, able to handle the heavy deliveries, brothers named Jim and Ben. They weren't very bright, but they got the job done.

The last one was Sandy Copper, she was good with numbers and cash handling., so she instantly became the financial advisor for Mr Wonka, though he didn't pay all that much attention really. She nagged him a lot, but then that was her job so he forgave her that.

Five workers seemed to be enough for the time being, and Mr Wonka spared no time in sending them to work right away.

The next week was extremely exciting. He announced one day to the five workers he had hired that he had discovered something that would change the face of the consumer market. He kept what exactly it was under his hat, but he told them to get ready for the most amazing thing they had ever seen. So far.

One day, just after five o'clock, instead of letting the workers go home as usual, he locked the front door. They were just stepping toward the door when Mr Wonka appeared out of no where and snapped the lock shut. He looked at them blankly, like he hadn't done anything out of the ordinary at all.

"Mr Wonka…?" Joe gasped.

"What's going on?" Tim leaped in, always the curious one of the group. He had the mannerisms of a young kitten, wanting to know what everything was and what it was for.

"Ssh!…Come on through the back!" he disappeared into the creating room.

Joe and Tim followed Mr Wonka as quickly as they could into the Creating room. He tapped Jim and Ben on the shoulder and told Sandy to stop playing with the paperwork.

The five of them followed Mr Wonka. He finally stopped, turned to face them, then lent casually on one of the freezers.

"Watch this…" he opened the lid of the freezer and took out a small tub, an ice cream tub by the looks of things, then he took out another tub, exactly the same size, but it had Wonka printed on it in the usual fat curly way in bright red.

"Ice cream?" Jim and Ben said simultaneously.

"Chocolate ice cream!" Joe smiled.

"Are we having a party?" Tim asked excitedly.

"We will be once you see." Mr Wonka said, just looking at the ice cream tubs and nothing else. They could tell he was getting excited. He couldn't wait to show them whatever it was that made this ice cream special.

"See what?"

"Patience, now. Don't lose your heads!" he finally popped open the first tub, scooped out a big pile of chocolate ice cream and sat it in a bowl.

"Now, watch."

"What?"

"Stop watch!" he pulled a small pocket watch out of his coat, and hit the top button. He then shoved it into Sandy's hand and told her to start timing.

Slowly, the ice cream began to sink into itself, and after a while, it started to look like a thick brown puddle of goo. Before long it was all runny and almost like milkshake.

"How long did that take, Sandy?"

"About…six minutes 32 seconds…roughly, sir."

"Wonderful! Now then…" he took a scoop out of the tub that had Wonka printed on it and put it into another bowl and placed it beside the same bowl. "Watch this. Time it again, Sandy, if you please."

This time, the ice cream didn't sink. In fact, it didn't melt at all. It stayed perfectly solid and cold. The workers looked and looked. Mr Wonka looked at their faces, and a little grin began to spread on his own face.

"This ice cream doesn't melt!"

"Not only that, but look!" Mr Wonka grabbed the bowl, skipped over to a cooker, put it onto full and threw the bowl into the oven.

"Mr Wonka!!"

"Now, now! It will be fine!"

"It will explode! It will make a mess! It-"

"Will not melt no matter what."

"But how did you manage to do that?"

"It's impossible!!"

"But I did it."

"What's in it…?" Tim asked him.

Mr Wonka raised his eye brows them shook his head. "You want to run that by me again? Must of got some of the ice cream in my ears or something…There are still one or two things that are a bit odd…but I'm sure I'll think of something."

"Sir, you intend to sell this?" Sandy asked, ever the perfectionist. She tried to do her best to make sure she knew everything that Mr Wonka was planning to do, but that was proving to be more difficult by the day.

"Of course I do!"

"Then, you do realise you will probably have to present it to Health and Safety. There so happens to be a Confectioners national fair next week. I'm sure if you took this…what do you call it?"

"Uh…Never melt Chocolate Ice cream. I thought that was pretty obvious,"

"Well…whatever you decide to call it…I'm sure you will gain their approval and possibly more. You will of course have to meet your competition face to face. There will be hundreds of wannabe chocolatiers there."

"Wonderful." Mr Wonka said, almost not listening.

Sandy coughed. "Most of them…not as…colourful as you, sir."

"What are you saying?" That caught his attention.

"I'm saying that most of them have some sort of back ground in business studies…they'll know how to sell their creations."

"And so will I. If you're so worried, Miss Cooper, why don't you hitch hike?"

"I would, sir, but there is the matter of who will run the shop while you're gone."

"Oh that won't be a problem! I'm Sure Mr Bucket here, Tim, Jim and Ben can handle the fort for a day. No problem whatsoever. Things will be fine!"

The day of the conference came. It was inside a huge Hall that echoed and seemed to go on and on. There were plenty of people there, most of them trying to sell their latest inventions. But there were very few confectioners or chocolatiers there. They all seemed to be exactly what Sandy had said they would be. Businessmen.

"This is a little…confusing. I've never seen so many people under one roof before!"

There were stalls everywhere selling candy, chocolate, merchandise of all sorts, aprons, kitchen tools, one stall was even selling chocolate fountains.

"It's more like a convention than a conference….Mr Wonka?"

He had run off in the direction of a small stall with lots of funny little moving things on it. They seemed not have much of a purpose, but it was the only thing in the entire hall that Mr Wonka found interesting at the time.

They were basically little wind up toys, and as they walked, they dropped little bits of sugar coated candy behind them.

"I'll have them!"

"All of them?!?" the lady behind the stall screamed. "They're five pounds each, sir!"

I'll have six then. One for me, and the rest for my workers."

"Mr Wonka, please don't run off like that!" Sandy said. "Don't want you to get lost in this crowd."

"Oh, don't be such a baby, Sandy. Look! They rattle!" he dropped one of the wind up toys in her hand. She tried to ignore it, and grabbed Mr Wonka's coat to pull him away from the stall.

"The conference is about to start. Let's find a seat."

It was difficult finding there way through the crowds. People were bumping into them from all sides, and not a single face looked all that friendly. Sandy felt a bit out of place, and knew Mr Wonka stuck out like a sore thumb. But why did he? These were supposed to be 'his' sort of people.

They ran into a familiar face. It was Slugsworth. He stood like a soldier in attention, but looked at them like they were the ones that were supposed to polish his shoes.

"Ah, Mr Wonka. Fancy meeting you here. Having fun in that …little store of yours are we?" he smiled showing very uneven yellow teeth. He looked at Sandy and looked her up and down. He seemed to scoff slightly and then seemed to think she wanted to know who he was…which she didn't. "Permit me, my name is Simon Slugsworth. And you are…?"

"Sandy Copper, Sir."

"Um one of my many workers, Mr Slugsworth!" Mr Wonka put a foot between Sandy and Slugsworth. Not that it made any difference. Slugsworth was almost twice his height.

"Ah. Sandy Copper, is it? Tell me, what is it you…do at Mr Wonka's establishment? Mop the floor, do you?"

"Um…"

"You'd best keep a look out Mr Wonka, you are in way over your head here. Why don't you go back to your little shop, hm? And take your little good luck charm with you."

"Who was that?"

"The embodiment of evil …" Mr Wonka said, darkly. It seemed that whenever Slugsworth was near them, Mr Wonka seemed to grow incredibly ill. But then Slugsworth seemed to have that sort of effect on most people.

They made there way to the rows of seats. They were filling up fast, and they tried to get seats as close to the front as they could.

"Here's some seats here, Mr Wonka." Sandy announced. They were near the front, but also right in the middle, so they had to squeeze past people to get in and of the row.

Mr Wonka was quiet. He sat down and started to shiver slightly. He crossed his legs, but wouldn't stop fidgeting. Sandy looked at him. He gave what seemed to be a mixture of a gulp and a smile, like he had just swallowed something sour.

"You got the two tubs of ice cream?" he asked her suddenly. He took his hat off, and began to drum on it repeatedly.

"Yes. They're both in the cooling box."

"Wonderful…" more drumming of fingers against the hat…"…and…is there anything else…oh!" he leaped up and seemed to go into a dance like panic. "I wrote down what I was going to say!…somewhere…oh where is it…" he began to dig around in his pockets for something.

"I have it right here, Mr Wonka, remember? You gave it to me."

"Oh, yeah…"

A man walked up to the stand on the stage and the entire hall went deathly quiet. Sandy gawked in amazement. It all seemed so uniformed. Every man on the stage seemed to be wearing the same thing, dark blue suits with matching ties. but the man beside the stand had a big blue badge on his jacket and a very smug look on his face. He was bald and his eyes were very narrow.

"Oh…my…goodness…." Mr Wonka sank in his seat and covered his face with his hat.

"What is it?"

"It's Ficklegruber…"

Ficklegruber tapped a pile of papers neatly together and laid them flat onto the podium. He had the sort of look on his face that told everyone else that he was the head, and everyone else was the tail. Mr Wonka clenched his teeth, almost bracing himself for the terrible boredom he knew that was about to come.

"Welcome everyone to this years National Confectioners Fair. This conference is a special one indeed. I am very happy to see you all here. There is a nice mix of chocolatiers, candy makers, inventers and investors. We will begin calling out the names in each category in a moment. The first category will be Chocolatiers. Could all the chocolatiers step up onto the platform where you will be taken back stage and told the order you will be presenting your work to the board."

He had the voice of a squeaky door, or like the noise you get when you drag your nails across a black board. Just having to sit and listen to him gave Mr Wonka bad tooth ache.

Mr Wonka shrugged then stood up. The whole thing felt like a school assembly.

"Good luck, Mr Wonka." Sandy gave him a sort of salute.

"Oh dear me, Sandy! I don't need luck! I have chocolate Ice cream!"

Sandy felt her confidence leave once Mr Wonka disappeared behind the stage. She knew he knew what he was doing, but Slugsworth and Ficklegruber seemed to be very slippery characters. It was just unfortunate that the two of them were among the five board members…

If Mr Wonka's ice cream didn't pass, he would have nothing new to sell. He had been working on this for weeks, had the idea before he even opened the shop. Sandy knew if the board said no, he would be extremely upset.

But now all she could do was wait. And it was torture.


	3. Sugar mime china doll

Chapter 3 Chocolate Stage

The five men on the board looked at all the chocolatiers. They all were carrying bags or boxes and clip boards and were asking each other what they had brought. They were…mingling…and Mr Wonka wasn't one to mingle…

Mr Wonka had put the cooler box with the ice cream inside on the floor, and was sitting on it with his legs crossed, just listening to the pointless banter. No matter how different Mr Wonka seemed to be from the others, they all had at least two things in common. They made chocolate and were nervous.

Mr Wonka's nerves soon morphed into boredom. He found confidence as he sat waiting, but of course once your confident while your waiting for something to happen, you get bored and a little fidgety. So he started cracking his knuckles, glancing every now and then toward Sandy. As long as he could see her or knew she was near by he seemed to feel safe.

Sandy simply watched just waiting for…something…anything to start talking. They just seemed to be huddled in a circle, all the men on the board, chatting, whispering…concocting…

Finally they stopped talking and they sat down at the table again. Ficklegruber however, out of the corner of Mr Wonka's eye was seen turning away from the board members, then instead of stepping toward the stand…

Ficklegruber approached him, then suddenly Mr Wonka felt incredibly ill. Maybe Ficklegruber and Slugsworth both gave off poisonous fumes…either that or Mr Wonka had finally met some he actually wanted to poison.

"It would look better if you stood up, like the rest of them, Mr Wonka," Ficklegruber instructed him, like he was some head master of a school and Mr Wonka was the pupil about to get his wrists slapped. "You see, there are many people on this stage, Mr Wonka. Most of them have been chocolatiers for much longer than you have been alive. What makes you think you're better than them?"

"I don't think I'm better than them. I think my candy is better than their candy. That's quite different."

"You're taking a dangerous step here. It's a win all or lose all situation. You do know exactly what is at stake, yes? I told you to stay within our guidelines but did you listen? Oh no. Why don't you go back to where you came from?"

"I don't like what I came from, Mr Ficklegruber. Besides, you have to go forwards to go backwards and going back to where I came from would be like going forward to where I will be. I would just be taking pointless steps."

"What you just said was just pointless!"

"Is that some sort of flimsy threat?"

Ficklegruber sat down at the board table. Mr Wonka wasn't making any sense at all, he seemed to think the whole thing was just a bit of fun. He was too cocky for Ficklegruber's liking, and Slugsworth could tell that just by looking at the expressions on both of their faces.

"He's an idiot." Ficklegruber whispered to Slugsworth. "Why did he bother coming here…he's not even officially in the consumer listings. It's a family run business he has…not a chain store like the rest of them…"

"Perhaps he thinks his candy really is better. He seems very confident about whatever it is he's sitting on." Slugsworth seemed to lighten a little, but that was quickly followed by a nudge on the side.

"Yes, but so was Mr Switch, wasn't he, and look what happened with him."

One of the board members stood up and started reading out names. One by one, the chocolatiers showed the board their candy. 

They were mostly the same, they did have some new flavours but they weren't very inventive…only one person interested Mr Wonka, because he had something called exploding chocolate, but all it did was foamed a little bit…it looked like chocolate drool.

Eventually the line grew smaller and smaller, and finally it was Mr Wonka's turn. Sandy listened as carefully as she could. She gulped.

Now Mr Wonka stood straight and looked at every man on the board. Ficklegruber and Slugsworth were on the far right, leaving an obvious gap between the other three. 

The one with the blue badge with 'Quil' printed on it was the first to speak.

"So, you are…Mr Wonka…? Ah. It says here you are the new owner of the Switch candy store. What do you have to show us today?"

This was it, the first chance Mr Wonka ever had of showing someone the candy he had created on a national scale. This really could make or break his career, but he didn't care, as long as he could still make his candy. Selling candy all over the world was his dream, his nightmare was only losing that dream. Forgetting was the thing he feared the most.

Mr Wonka opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

'Come on…' Sandy thought. 'Just read the paper….oh no…' The note that Mr Wonka had written the words down was still in her pocket.

"Well, young man? We're waiting."

Mr Wonka gulped. Sandy saw that he had his shoulders hunched inwards, and he seemed to grow incredibly stiff, as if he was about to completely collapse like a falling tree.

"If you don't want to show us what you have, I'm afraid we'll have to move on."

Mr Wonka broke into a cold sweat and his eyes simply froze in place, widened and he let out a little squeak.

"Hm…." Ficklegruber leaned over to Slugsworth. "I knew he'd choke…"

'Right,' he told himself. 'You will have to snap out of this one, Willie,' His brain told him. 'Get through this, this will be your only chance. Ever. Just swallow whatever it is your choking on and show them the ice cream! You know it's the best there is!'

Mr Wonka stamped his foot. He looked straight ahead of him, not at anything as such, almost like he went into a dream, his eyes sparkled, then finally words came out of his mouth…messily.

"This…thisiswhatIwannashowya!"

"…Excuse me?" Mr Quil said, surprised.

"Oop…" Suddenly a stage help appeared next to him and buried something in his hand. He looked down at it then to the side of the stage. Sandy stood there and gave her usual salute and mouthed, 'sorry.'

Mr Wonka took a sigh of relief and unfolded the piece of paper.

"My name is Willy Wonka, and I would like to show you all my latest creation! I call it Never melt Ice cream."

He paused. It seemed to simply be for effect. Sandy bit her lip and shut her eyes.

He opened the cooler and took out both tubs of ice cream, one blank, the other with Wonka written on it. Ficklegruber scoffed. Slugsworth raised his eyebrows.

"It will be the end of all summers ruined by melting ice cream cones, you could leave a bowl of ice cream outside on a hot day in the morning and come back to it at night and it won't go runny! If you watch this ordinary scoop of chocolate ice cream, you will see that it is slowly melting. However this scoop of my never melt ice-cream is…well…not melting! Go ahead! Try some!"

Only one board member was brave enough to get up and taste it. He took a spoon out of his coat (they all had one) and tasted the never melt ice cream.

Mr Wonka's eyes seemed to glaze over. 

Sandy was watching from the side. She had seen Mr Wonka's face like that before. It always seemed to go almost as white as icing sugar when something bad was about to happen. Or maybe he was simply nervous.

"Rats…" said Mr Quil. "You sure you made this yourself, young man?"

"Yeah. Of course I did." Mr Wonka's smile dropped and his voice became blunt.

"Interesting…very interesting…and you…wrote out the recipe…everything…yourself?" he took another spoon full. His smile grew and Mr Wonka became very excited.

Mr Quil was about to say something when Ficklegruber suddenly stood up and announced, "We have completed the review of the chocolatiers! If the chocolatiers could please leave the stage now!"

He bent down to Slugsworth, "Get him back stage now, I want a word with that idiot."

"Who, Quil or Wonka?"

"Wonka, you spoon! Wonka!"

Everyone was exiting the stage very quickly, cleared by stage hands but Sandy made her were to Mr Wonka. Everyone was passing them by, he looked at everyone, wondering why everyone was fazing him out, like he was transparent or something.

Slugsworth was suddenly in front of him…well, towering above him. "What have I done?"

"Mr Wonka, Ficklegruber wants to talk to you."

"Hm. Alright….Sandy, take the cooler box. I'll be back soon."

"But,"

"Wait here."

Ficklegruber was standing with one hand lent against a cold water pipe outside the building.

"That recipie of yours….are you so certain that it is yours?"

"Of course it is!"

"Are you certain that no one gave you that recipe?"

"Who would be able to give me such a thing?!"

"Not that I see any reason to have to explain myself to you, Ficklegruber, but…

It's true that maybe the actual idea to stop ice itself from melting was not originally my idea, but the ice cream was. Mr Switch, was working on a formula to stop ice from melting…you know to keep cold drinks cold for longer…but unfortunately nothing that he did worked…but, I found that the formula he used did stop ice from melting if it was mixed with something more solid than fizzy drinks….cream. Ice cream. Hence, never melt ice cream…but I never stole any recipe from him. He never even managed to make the formula work! How did you know that he …"

"He used to be on the board, just like Ficklegruber and me, and you share everything when you're in the board…that's why his name is so well known in the candy making business. His name is known…but not his candy."

Mr Wonka's face dropped. Infact his whole posture seemed to dissolve. The very thought that Mr Switch…his own mentor was one of them…wore the same kind of suit as Ficklegruber…well it was enough to make him want to throw up. "He was one of you…? Mr Switch was…a suit?"

"For a while…" Slugsworth said quietly.

"But he was an idiot. Just like you. We don't want your sort to make the rest of us look bad."

"But I don't understand. I'm not a business man so I can't possibly make you look bad. I may embarrass you, but that would probably be all I do unless I actually wanted to do something deliberately to make you look even worse than you already do…"

"You are just to naive to survive in this business. Everyone is laughing at you, Mr Wonka. You say your candy is better than everyone else's but quite frankly, we're still waiting for something miraculous."

"I see…So you don't want me to sell any candy because you think I'll put you people, you…business people in a bad way. You're worried about how other people will look at you. You think I will sink the business, just because I'm a little more…daring than the rest…Well, gentlemen, I can tell you, I'm looking at you right now and all of a sudden I taste some really bad eggs…I refuse to believe that my mentor was one of you!"

Sandy opened the door outside. The three men instantly stopped talking.

"Problem?"

"No. Not at all. No problem at all…" Mr Wonka dropped, then slowly marched away, back inside the building. Sandy looked at Ficklegruber and Slugsworth, then followed Mr Wonka.

The journey home felt like tip toeing through a field full of egg shells.. Silence, but every little noise that broke it was teeth clenching. The van was clanking, and the front seats were wobbly, but Mr Wonka didn't seem to notice. He just kept driving.

"Dear oh dear…" he muttered. "Look at the rush hour traffic. This better clear up soon or we'll never make it through to the store before we have to close up. So much to do so little time…"

"So…you're not going to tell me what happened, then?"

"I don't think it's really worth talking about at all…spilt milk and all that." Mr Wonka shrugged.

"So…you didn't get a permit from the board to sell the ice cream then?"

Mr Wonka slammed the breaks in the van. Sandy jolted forward, while Mr Wonka simply brushed dust off his coat.

"Miss Copper…I am not worried about getting the permit or not getting the permit…there are other ways of selling merchandise other than through the international consumers market. There are some people who will sell your candy independently for only a fraction of the profits! They sell candy just because that's what they like to do…they don't obsess over how much money they make. That's the kind of people I want."

"People who…don't…obsess?"

"Yeah."

"You're not going to get anywhere only doing what feels…right to you. You're going to have to bite your tongue and just jump into the pool."

"I will NOT change my morals just so I can make a little extra green paper!"

"You won't make ANY extra green paper at the rate your going!"

"So, you think I'm going to lose the store?!? You think I'm a bad face on the consumer market too?"

"If you keep going the way you are then…Yes I do think that!"

"Why? What should I do then, hm? What could I possibly do that will stop that from happening?!?"

"Take a little note from your mentor, that would be a good idea!"

"HE WAS ON THE BOARD!!!"

"What?"

"He used to be one of the board members! He used to decide who could sell and who couldn't sell…he was a suit…"

"Mr Wonka…"

"I wanted to make candy. That's all. Mr own father didn't approve, but when I moved into the Switch house that was all they did. They were all such colourful and unusual people you know. Talented too. Mr Switch was an experimenter. That was all he ever did. He used to lock himself in his store, looking to see what he could create. And it wasn't just candy. He invented amazing little gadgets to make candy quicker, so he could have more time creating new candy….but…he didn't seem to have the same…drive as I seemed to have. He let anything distract him. I'm not letting anything distract me, I'm going to make this store work and what's more I will own more stores, in fact I'm going to own my own factory one day. I know I will."

His obsession and his stubbornness surprised Sandy for a split second but she thought, 'wait a minute, this is Wonka speaking…silly me' and she shook the very breif thought of how young that made him appear out of her mind.

"A factory…really?"

He turned sharply toward her. His skin seemed so pale but clear, almost like a china doll. His eyes were so inviting, yet so closed at the same time. She realised she didn't really know anything about him. Where he came from, who is family was… why he was so…obsessed with candy. There was something driving him, and whatever it was made Sandy feel safe.

"Really really. Absolutely really. More reallies than you can shake a sugar cane at. And what's more, it will be the biggest in the world!"

She laughed. It was almost like listening to a five year old. Telling his mother exactly what he was going to be when he grew up. But this was no child. A shiver ran down her spine.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I have the best financial advisor there is!" he started the van up again and drove through the road.

Now she felt sick. Was he relying on her to make all this work out? If so, that really was going to make her job a whole lot difficult.

Why she had gone so quiet he had no clue. He just kept his eyes on the road, completely focussed, even though his brain was doing two hundred mile an hour circuits through what he imagined his factory to be like, flying through every single room and every single corridor. What he noticed at the last second was that the only thing he saw in the factory was him. Where was everyone else? He shrugged the thought off, then started to hum a little song to himself, completely oblivious of the fact Sandy was about ready to tear her hair out. What had she gotten herself into? 


	4. Pink Bubble Gum and Lost Marbles

Chapter 4 Marbles

The next few days were quiet. Sometimes though, little surprising things happened that gave you that little jolt, or wake up, like when you go downstairs at night time but miss that one last step.

Most of the noises came from the front store, usually of something falling over suddenly or the little bell by the door ringing now and then. 

The shop was like a sleepless night during the day. You were so much more aware about every noise that happened, because they stood out so much more when it was quiet, and you were scared to say anything in case you missed one, also scared because if you did break the silence, it would only make the silence more noticeable. Your imagination went wild in the silence.

Sandy hated the quiet. The candy wasn't selling as well as it had been, and that meant not much income. It was never quiet before. Bills were piling up and there was only a small margin of profit. But the thing that annoyed her the most was that Mr Wonka didn't even seem to care in the slightest. She had to make him understand that the bussiness had to make money aswell as candy to stay open. He just didn't seem to think money was a problem. Why?

Obsession made you forget things…important things…

The schools were back, and that meant children packed the shop in the early morning, before school, then again late afternoon after school. Some days, they could even hear them running. Things were so chaotic at that time, and there was always one child that didn't have enough money to pay, and that held the queue up, or just made the place a little uncomfortable.

Tim and Joe were the ones who usually served at the counter, they were quick and friendly, and always kept the place tidy which Mr Wonka liked to see. But he never let anyone else clean the place. Mr Wonka always made sure he was the one cleaning. Even if it meant mopping the entire floor and wiping every single shelf himself. He couldn't stand mess, unless of course he made it that way.

One time, when Sandy was on her break, she heard a sudden young scream from the front store, like crying.

She ran through, and found Joe, Tim and surprisingly Mr Wonka.

"We called him through when this little boy just burst into tears." Tim said to Sandy, with a little shrug. It hadn't changed the situation at all. Mr Wonka seemed to become part of the furniture when he came to the front store.

"Yes, look at him! It's awful, but he won't tell us what's wrong." Joe said, really concerned.

Mr Wonka just stood there with the tip of his finger pushing gently on his chin, deep in thought, flinching every time the boy cried loudly, just waiting for the boy to calm down. The boy was holding a wonka bar in his shaking hand.

"He won't pay for it, Mr Wonka."

"He got to the counter then just…burst into tears."

Mr Wonka stared at the boy with his eyebrows raised. He tilted his head slightly then began to tap the floor with his foot, almost losing patience. How long can one little boy cry for?

"Do you think…" he suddenly said, then quickly turned away from the boy. He dashed over to the counter, ducked, then hopped back up again, holding a little yellow lollypop.

He ran back over to the little boy and gave him the lollypop. The boy took it cautiously but didn't open it. His hands were too shaky.

"Now then…whatever is the matter?" Mr Wonka said, folding his arms and crouching down to the boy's eye level. He was only around eight or nine years old…Sandy just realised that the boy's eyes seemed to match Mr Wonka's. There was a lot of life behind both pairs of eyes.

"I was about to pay for this wonka bar, when this big kid took all my money!" the boy said, sniffing between each word.

"Did he now? What did he look like?"

"Big and really mean! He always takes my money, sir, never gives it back. I only get fifty pence a week from my dad and that kid takes every penny."

"Hm…Wonka bars are forty five pence each…And that boy was in my store?" Mr Wonka said, horrified then stood up.

"Yes, sir!" the boy stamped his foot, more angry than upset now, then noticed the little yellow lollipop clutched in his hand.

"Hm. I don't like that…" Mr Wonka said, shaking his head continuously, staring down at the floor with wide eyes. "I don't like that at all. You must never let bullies push you around, little boy. If you let them, they might decide to take something more valuable than money, you know. Like your left shoe."

"I don't even have money for this lollypop, sir!"

"Dear me, little boy! Keep this under your hat, that one's free. Now then, if you see that boy in my store, tell whoever is behind the counter, and I will see to it myself that he won't be allowed in this store again. And what more…I'll make some of my candy a little cheaper. Kay?"

The little boy smiled, then left.

"Nicely handled, Mr Wonka!" Joe said.

"Yes, sir he stopped crying right away!" Tim patted Mr Wonka hard on the back which made Mr Wonka choke and he gave him a little 'how dare you touch me' sort of look, but then laughed it off.

"Kids…" he said simply. "Lucky little people, aren't they?" 

Something had lifted from the store after that day, but no matter how hard Sandy tried to lighten things up, she just didn't have the same effect on people as Mr Wonka did. Not to mention he was giving free candy away.

Speaking of which…

How many times had he done this? Sure under the circumstances it was understandable for that boy, but…did he pay for the wonka bar he had in his hand after all that? And what was that about making some of the candy cheaper?

If things kept going this way, Sandy knew she would be out of a job within a year, and the Wonka store would disappear…

Mr Wonka had started staying in the creating room, all by himself with the door locked for hours on end, never coming out, not even to eat. In his absence, the store seemed to have become a lot more bleaker again…and sales had gone down.

Some days, when Sandy and the others arrived for work, the shop doors were already open, and Mr Wonka was already locked inside the creating room, so some days they wouldn't even see him at all.

Suddenly the whole place got warmer, and steam seeped out of the creating room door.

"What is he doing in there?"

Sandy got up and knocked on the door. "Mr Wonka?"

Then a little 'yelp' was heard from inside behind the door, which was closely followed by a very loud,

BOOM!!!

"Mr Wonka?!?" Sandy was practically banging the door now, smoke was seeping out from beneath the door.

"Mr Wonka, are you-"

Suddenly it swung open, Mr Wonka darted out, threw himself against the door to shut it tight before another even louder

BOOOOOOM!

….came from inside.

Tim, Joe, Bill, Fred and Sandy stood staring at Mr Wonka's back for a moment. Then Sandy tapped his shoulder. He yelped again when he saw all the faces staring back at him. 

He was almost covered head to toe in what seemed to be little pink bubbles. The only place there were no bubbles were around his face and nose where a pair of large round black goggle like glasses were.

"That…" he said, raising an index finger to them, "was…some something!" he blurted out, then slid down the door slowly onto the floor.

"What is…this pink stuff, Mr Wonka?"

"What indeed…" he said, dazed but fascinated with what he was covered in. He just couldn't stop smiling.

"Mr Wonka!" Sandy yelled, horrified at what had just happened and also horrified at how clueless Mr Wonka was being. He had just been in the same room as an explosion!

"Oh, yeah…pink bubble gum." he squeaked.

"I've never seen bubble gum do that." Joe said quietly.

"Bubble gum can't do that!" Sandy said, quickly.

"I never said it was bubble gum." Mr Wonka said, picking pits off his coat.

"You certainly did, sir. You said it was bubble gum just now." someone said.

"I said nothing of the sort. I said Pink Bubble gum. It had candy floss in it…among other things…the bubbles grow real big but…they're a real whopper when they go pop like that. Who knew car tire pumps could make them so big so quickly."

"Car tire pumps?!? You used car tire pumps to blow up the chewing gum?!?"

"I used what? Stop mumbling like that, you really should get that checked." he smiled at them, then started picking at the pink bubble gum all over him. He shuddered and took out a handkerchief.

"That won't help! You'll get that stuck to the gum!"

"I'm not going to use this to pick the gum off…" he took the jacket off, put the handkerchief over the collar then carried it by his thumb and index finger back inside the creating room, shuddering and clenching his teeth all the way, then the door slammed shut again.

Sandy looked at Joe and Tim. They were both looking at her, but Joe was the only one jerking his head toward the door, signalling her to go talk to him, make sure he really was alright.

She sighed, reluctantly putting her hand on the door handle (which by the way was still sticky) and amazingly the door hadn't been locked…

The creating room was the most incredible thing she had ever seen. There were pots and pans everywhere, bubbling and brewing with all sorts of mixtures. It was like a witch's kitchen with all the pots, but a whole lot friendlier…sort of. 

The walls were shining almost like gold, and there were boxes, shelves, drawers everywhere, each and every one a brighter colour to whatever it was it was sitting next to. Everything screamed out for attention, and she found herself wanting to know what was inside every single box her eyes threw themselves at.

If it wasn't for all the colour everywhere and everything else oddly charming about the room, anyone would have thought a bomb had hit it…then she remembered the pink bubble gum. But then nothing had any bubble gum on it. 

There was a little cubicle by the door, made of what seemed to be glass. The inside of it had words written all over it, but neatly and little round buttons stuck to them. It was a model of some sort but she couldn't figure out what it was supposed to be.

She could say one thing, no matter how messy it was, it was also incredibly clean, not a speck of dust in sight. But…how could any one do anything or find anything in such a room? Some things were covered with sheets, and areas of the floor had little pieces of paper with writing scribbled all over them on both sides. There were doodles and words written on the walls in white chalk too.

Everything was shiny and spotless but colourful. She could see why Mr Wonka stayed in here all the time. It was in some ways oddly beautiful.

There were all sorts of odd objects lying around, marbles, yoyos, things made of rubber, a broken watch and lots of pairs of different coloured gloves and glasses. Everything in the room moved or made a noise and the room was so packed with stuff Sandy was scared to move.

"Did I misspell my little door sign?"

Sandy jumped, dropping whatever it was she had just picked up. Mr Wonka appeared, that creepy toothy grin shining back at her, but no matter how much he smiled, she knew he wasn't happy about her being in the creating room.

"Your what?"

"My door sign. 'creating Room Keep out' I think was what I had printed onto it…could be mistaken though. Did I make a misprint?"

"No."

"Oh right, so…you ignored it?"

"I stopped knocking, didn't I?"

"Ah. Yes, that you did. Quite right. Thank you!" he skipped off to his left and disappeared behind a table covered with what seemed to be a huge elaborate chemistry set, all sorts of colourful liquids flying around inside it. He started tapping each one, almost like it was a huge drum kit, not caring if the glass cracked here and there. Then each beaker sang, 'cling' and the tapping almost became a song.

"What have you been doing in here…?"

"Creating. After all, it is a creating room." he continued tapping the little song, seemingly not paying attention to what he was doing, but knowing exactly why he was doing it. It scared Sandy how thoughtless Mr Wonka was.

"What have you been creating, Mr Wonka?"

"…A creative mess I supose." he said tilting his head slightly. He darted behind a stack of boxes and started knocking on them and slowly opening one of them.

"You lock yourself in here for hours on end, never coming-"

"Hold this for me, will you?"

"Okay…and …What is this I'm holding?"

"A spoon."

"A spoon…?"

It was a spoon, it was stripy all the way down the handle, green, white and blue but the spoon top and one colour, a lighter blue. It was shiny and sticky the longer she held it, it seemed to start melting, or it felt like it was.

"Well, it's an edible spoon."

"And…I'm holding it because…"

"Because I want to see if it turns your fingers blue." He whipped out a little magnifying glass and moved it above her fingers.

"Is…is it supposed to?"

"Of course not!"

"Oh…good."

"It's supposed to turn them green." he said, darting his eyes up to hers innocently.

Sandy could only think of one word to reply with.

"Random…"

"Try some." Mr Wonka said, almost seriously demanding her to. "It's just like a lollipop really, just shaped like a spoon."

"Um…why is it shaped like a spoon?"

"I thought it was obvious? You know when you're doing washing up there is always one tea spoon at the bottom of the sink? Well, if you eat it you don't have to wash it!"

"But…it will be all soapy and…never mind…"

She put the edible spoon on a counter. "Mr Wonka?"

"Yeah?"

"We worry about you, we sometimes don't see you at all during the day, not even lunch hour when the store closes…"

"Why should that worry you? I don't see you during the day and I don't worry about you at all."

The bluntess was what bothered her. So incredibly blunt, but it wasn't said in a nasty way. It was in a strange sort of way comforting. If Mr Wonka had to worry about you, you knew you were not safe.

"The point is…well…are you eating at all when your in here?"

"I eat when I'm hungry."

"Alright…fine…but…You…do realise that we're not making much money…?"

"Well I'm making candy, it's your job to make the money, isn't it?"

"No, it's my job to manage it."

The whole time they were talking, Mr Wonka was up and down ladders, sipping glasses of something called Mur and Raquel . Everything that was distracting him had some sort of lable on it, and he read each one before tasting whatever was behind, above or beneath the label.

"Isn't that the same thing? Making and managing things? How can you make something without managing it?"

"No, Mr Wonka…it's not. We're in real deep here. We may not even have enough money to pay the pills for the next month."

There was a sort of sound that sounded like…well an audible roll of the eyes, if there is such a sound. "That's your problem, isn't it?" he said climbing up a ladder.

Sandy, saw the ladder shaking, and grabbed it to steady it, but Mr Wonka didn't even notice how wobbly it was, or how motionless it suddenly became when Sandy grabbed the handles of the ladder. "Mr Wonka, listen to me! This is very important! You can't keep wasting money on creating candy your not going to sell! And you certainly can't give free candy away whenever you feel like it!"

"The boy was upset, sugar is good for you when you're upset. Sugar makes you happier. Sugar dries the tears. Not to mention he looked a litte…sour."

He used that word a lot to describe a lot of people, but Sandy never asked him what he meant by it. It was usually if he saw someone walking in a sort of hunch, or had a face like a bull dog chewing a wasp or simply looked like if someone poked them hard enough they would fall to the ground and smash into lots of tiny pieces. He said sour people need candy more than any other sort of people.

"How many times have you given candy away for free?" 

He looked at her in silence. He jumped down from the ladder.

His face was plain, but his eyes seemed to have sunk into his face a little. Her face was simply agitated. She knew he wasn't really listening to her. He was too occupied. The only way it seemed to get his attention in the creating room was to insult the very thing he created. 

"As if you could put any price on candy." he shrugged. "I would happily give it away! I don't make candy for the money. I make it because that's what I do. Sandy, please stop worrying…worries do nothing but scurry around and make everyone nervous…and forgive me but, you're a nervous wreck!" he let his arms drop to his side, then he disappeared again, lost in a treasure load of colours and shapes.

"But that's what I don't understand. You're so calm about everything yet you know how much trouble we are in…how can you not let it bother you that we could be bankrupt in the next year?"

He popped his head back up, shook his head and stuttered slightly. He just didn't understand all these questions and worry. "I would never allow that. Things always go a little wobbly in the first year of your own business. Mr Switch himself told me he only opened the store three days a week for a while."

"You're not going to do that, are you?"

"Cut the hours? Oh, dear no. I'll only do that if I feel the need to. Now then…where did I put my marbles?"

It was crazy. How could she trust him with the business? He knew nothing about business for one, second he couldn't even keep his creating room organised, thirdly, he looked like he hadn't eaten or slept for days. 

She just had to remember that it wasn't her job to keep the place running. That was his responsibility. He didn't seem to be taking it all that seriously, that was what bothered her. But when he said he would never allow bankruptcy to happen, it was almost like they were in a circus, and Mr Wonka was the safety net. Sure, it had a few lose wires here and there but it still was a safety net. That was never going to change. But even the most experienced of acrobats always worry that the net has been tied tight enough. 


End file.
